From Auchenlarie Caravan Park, I head up into the hills to avoid the A75, where glorious views across the bay are entirely obscured by fog. Past Barholm Castle, once home of the McCulloch's, then along a boulder-strewn miserable excuse for a beach to Carsluith Castle, once home of the Browns, who feuded with, and occasionally murdered the McCullochs. Finally a peaceful stroll into Carsluith village ends this short evening walk

I find a route avoiding walking up a hill, and also avoiding the A75 (mostly), discover the tiniest chapel and some lovely beaches. Then things go rapidly downhill as I end up rock-climbing, injure my hand, leap over electric fences and play with a herd of bullocks.

From the beautiful Brighouse Bay, I make my way west and north, passing the weird and wonderful creations of a James Brown (not that one), and three old ladies attacking a tree. Then up the Water of Fleet, along the old canal, past an old palace, and into the little town of Gatehouse of Fleet.

Wandering down the west coast of Kirkudbright Bay, I investigate a wrecked schooner, get soaking wet trousers and feet in the woods, and round the Ross peninsula. On the way I pass the tranquil Little Ross island... where a lighthouse keeper was murdered by his colleague.

Filling in a gap, I walk north from Mutehill, through the pretty town of Kirkcudbright - apparently the best place to retire in Britain (apart from the weather) - make it across the decaying bridge over the Dee, and southwards to Nun Mill Bay. On the way I encounter stories of fearsome gipsy chiefs and head chopping youngsters, Manx raiders and Galloway counter-raiders, and find out why they eat their mains before the soup in the Isle of Man.

I finally plug the gap in my walks, as the Dundrennan Range is open! I clamber over the fence with the "Keep Out" signs, and pass derelict houses and burned out military vehicles, dodging bullets and tanks on the way. Not really, as the army are on holiday this weekend. I come across the remains of an antelope mauled by lions on the Serengeti, and sleep in the long grasses. Finally I reach the sea and follow the coast up to Mutehill.

Climbing out of Rascarrel, I battle through oceans of bracken, nettles, hogweed, gorse, streams and bogs, and every other barrier that nature could possibly think of. Past a beautiful garden, I find a cemetery with a most poignant story. Finally, the abbey where Mary Queen of Scots spent her last day in Scotland.

I climb the cliffs out of Balcary Bay with fantastic views out over the bay and the Solway Firth. I meet Lot's wife, who's not looking so great in her old age, and recount a nasty battle between hutters and developers at Rascarrel.

I circumnavigate the two peninsulas protruding into Auchencairn Bay, encounter beaches covered in cockle shells, and meander down the Shore Road to Balcary Bay.

Starting from Dalbeattie, where most everything is grey except the sky , I walk down the western side of the Urr estuary, to Palnackie, where I'm devastated to miss the World Flounder Tramping Championships... wouldn't you be? Then a long walk down to a beautiful remote beach, and the castle you couldn't have bought for £5.

From the lovely beach at Sandyhills, I walk through the eye of a needle and up onto the cliffs. Then I fail to find a bogle in a hole, but do find Nelson's grave. Then I take the long walk up the Urr estuary through seaside villages and woods, and get attacked by a swarm of wasps.

Due to me taking the lazy option yesterday, I left a little gap, so this is a very short walk along the A710 from The Village With Two Names down to the lovely beach at Sandyhills to plug the gap. The upside is I get to spend an hour soaking up the sun on the beach!

From the middle of nowhere on the A710, I struggle with a tongue-twister while heading to the beach at Carsethorn. Then a long beach walk past a huge house on the beach, tunnels through rocks, and the first lighthouse since Lancashire... the ugliest lighthouse ever. Then more beach and an RSPB Nature Reserve, before ending at The Village With Two Names.

From Dumfries heading south down the River Nith, often along the boring A710, but occasionally through pleasant woods and riverside paths. I pass the house of another Maxwell who lost almost everything, and an abbey built by a grieving widow for her sweetheart.